Chapter Six
Aiden
I tried to prepare her for what she’d see, but that’s impossible. Each time I’m called to a rescue I have no idea what to expect, and I’ve come to the realization that even when I expect the worse, I am disappointed to find out there is a new low. Today when we arrived, we were told the police arrested the offending parties. But the aftermath of it makes it clear their victims will never be free of the scars.
The ring is in a rural area on an overgrown lot with a small brick house in the middle. But it’s the backyard that is the real nightmare. Dogs are tied up with long, heavy ropes or metal chains. Some of them are in crates that are much too small for the number of animals living inside.
I usher Emma to the van. I don’t want her to see any of this. I can barely handle it myself. I should have made more of an effort to leave without her.
I scrounge around the van and find the clipboard with our intake forms. I hand it to Emma. “I need you to log the animals we’re taking. You’ll have to write down the temporary names we give them, their weight, description, any injuries, and then take a photo.”
“I can do that,” she says.
“You cannot under any circumstances have any contact with the animals. No touching, no petting, or even calling to them. While we’re here, try not to shout. It can be a trigger.”
“I understand.” Her eyes wander to the backyard where dogs are howling. I see all the emotions on her face as if she’s holding cue cards for me. The fear and anxiety and empathy all play out. This girl can’t hide a single thing.
I put my hands on each of her shoulders and wait for her to look at me. I need all of her attention. “The things you’ll see are going to be difficult. It’s okay to take a break. To walk away.”
She straightens and takes a deep breath. “I’m fine.”
I nod and leave her so I can get to work. I put on my protective gear and grab plenty of treats. The other volunteers fill me in on the situation. There are over thirty dogs, all of them in need of medical help. Thank God, the vet is here to assist.
I bring out pit bulls, German shepherds, and other breeds of dogs. Some of them come willingly. Others have to be carried. They are wounded and malnourished, broken and barely alive. I coax them with food and warm words and welcoming gestures. I earn their trust, little by little.
I recognize this pain and isolation and hopelessness. These animals and I are not so different. We have membership in the same club, after all.
Stacey, our volunteer vet, checks every rescued animal, placing medicine on wounds and assessing their damage.
Emma keeps busy filling out the stacks of paperwork. She does what I asked, although her lower lip trembles and her eyes widen each time I bring an animal out.
“Yeah, you want some kibble?” I ask the white pit. “That’s a good girl.” She limps toward me. This is slow work, and not for the weak of heart. I’m not a patient man, except in these situations. Any rushing on my part would do more harm than good. I keep my voice level until she becomes acclimated and lets me feed her. This one soaks up the affection as if she knows she’s being rescued. I bring the white pit to the truck. “Her name is Snow,” I say. Emma just stares at me.
“What?” I ask. “Are you all right?”
She nods. “It’s just…you’re so good with them. I’m glad they have someone like you. A crusader fighting for those who have a bark but no voice.”
I’m not sure how to respond. This is not something I do for accolades. It’s not all altruistic, either. I save the dogs. But what she doesn’t understand is that they save me, too. I need this in my life.
I open my mouth, but I’ve never been strong with words. For some reason, I have a harder time with her than most.
In that intense moment, someone does shout—a stranger no one noticed in the middle of all the craziness. “What the fuck are you doing with my dogs?” A tall, skinny man screams the question. His head is shaved and the index finger on his right hand is missing.
“Not your dogs anymore,” I say. I reach for Emma’s arm and pull her behind me.
He continues blasting obscenities at me and the other rescue workers. One of the volunteers announces she’s calling the police. The last squad car left an hour ago. Apparently, this man hadn’t been home when the arrests were made.
The man scowls at her. “Call them, bitch. But I’m taking my dogs.”
“The hell you are,” I say, taking a step forward.
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Take one step closer and you’ll find out real quick.”
“These are my fucking dogs,” the guy yells. His eyes are dilated and wild. “I own them. I can do what I want with them. They are my property.”
I feel something break inside of me. I’ve seen the devastation he’s caused first hand. My fists pump. Blood rushes through every vein. I want him to know trauma. Real trauma. God help me. Someone help me. I’m about to lose it.
“Hey, I know you,” the guy says. “You’re a fighter. You understand it, man. We’re the same. These dogs want to fight. I’m giving them a fucking opportunity to do what comes natural. Why shouldn’t I make a few bucks off it? C’mon man, I’m just their fucking manager. The same way you have a manager who puts you in a cage.”
This throws me off. He thinks we’re the same? Doesn’t he realize I’m more like the dogs than him?
Emma steps in front of me. “Calm down.”
“Stay out of this,” I tell her. “It’s not your business.”
She doesn’t move. I hear sirens in the distance. I wonder how much damage I can do before they get here.
“I’m making it my business, Aiden. These dogs need you.”
Yeah, she’s right, of course. But everything inside of me is screaming to make my own justice. “Get out of the way, Cooper.”
“I won’t. You’re better than this, Aiden.”
I choke out a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
The man keeps talking. I want to shut him up permanently. Emma puts her hand on the side of my face. I would have pulled away, maybe even pushed her away, but there is something so fierce and strong in her expression I can’t do anything. We stare at each other. I can almost hear the silent warning in her voice. Please, Aiden, don’t undo all your good work with one reckless act.
I close my eyes. “One, two, three, four, five…” I start. I take a breath with each number, trying to rein it in. I’m in control here. “Six, seven, eight,” she says in a low voice, counting in unison with me.
“You are just like me.” The screeching voice slices through the still air.
Yeah, maybe I am.
She turns around to face the bastard. A low-life who profits from cruelty.
“The same? You are nothing like him,” she says in a rush of clipped words. “This man right here and the rest of these people just spent the last five hours rescuing the animals you tortured and brutalized. Don’t compare yourself to him. You’re not even a man.”
My God, is she actually defending me? I break free from the dark place in my head. Her hands are balled into tight fists. She takes a step forward. I put my arm around her. “Stop, Emma. We’re both better than this.”
The police cruiser kicks up dust as it stops in front of the house. They cuff the man quickly, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. Emma turns to me. We lock eyes. I feel gratitude toward her. In a sense, she just rescued me.
“What’s going to happen to him?” she asks as the police haul the piece of garbage away.
“Jail time, for sure. There are stiff sentences for animal cruelty here. But whatever they do won’t be enough. It’s never enough.”
“Are you all right?” she asks.
No, Emma, I’m not all right. Does she have any idea how I almost gave in to the rage inside of me? “We should get back to work.”
There is only one more dog. A skinny pit bull with brown and black fur. She whimpers in my arms. Her leg is broken and her bones are visible, poking out through her tangled fur.
There is not much hope, but there is no greater cause than a lost cause. “We’ll take this one,” I tell the Animal Control worker.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “I think we need to look into other options.”
“I can help her.” It comes out with forceful conviction. I turn to Emma. “Her name will be Athena.”
“She’s going to need some extensive surgery,” Stacey says. “I don’t like the look of that leg.”
“We’ll pay for it, doc.”
Stacey nods. “I’ll take her with me. I can perform the surgery tonight and give her something for the pain now.”
The vet gives her a shot and applies medication to her wounds.
“Do you really think you can help her? She has no teeth. How will she eat?” Emma asks. She whispers it to me as if the dog can understand her doubts.
“Mac and I will feed her soft food by hand at first. I’ve had to do that before. We’ll figure it out.”
Athena whimpers when I touch her. It’s not pain but a weak growl, an attempt to protect herself…from me. I remind her of her former master. “She’s scared of me.”
“May I try?” Emma asks. “I’ll be careful.”
I’ve been hesitant to let her near the dogs. I’ve seen the most experienced rescue workers, including myself, get bitten when they are off guard. I would hate myself if Emma got hurt. But right now, I can’t give this animal what she needs, which is to feel safe. “Good idea, Cooper. Let her know she’s not alone.”
Emma strokes her brown and black fur, careful to avoid her injuries. Athena regards her with suspicion at first. After a few minutes she stops whimpering, but she still has that guarded look. “She must be in a lot of pain.”
I rifle through my pack. “The meds should kick in soon. She’s probably doing better than she ever has. I want to try to get some food into her, though. They can’t do the surgery for a while, and she’s starving.”
“She’s been bitten a lot.”
“Those dark days are over,” I say, more for Emma’s sake than anything else. I manage a smile.
I peel back the lid on a can of wet dog food and roll it up into a small ball. “Try feeding her.”
Emma takes it from me. At first, most of it falls out of Athena’s mouth. Poor girl. But Emma doesn’t give up. I keep handing her the food. She feeds Athena, managing to get a little more into her belly each time.
“They’ll have her on an IV soon, but at least she can enjoy one meal.”
When she’s done, Emma bends toward her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry for what they did to you. You’re strong, though. You’re going to be just fine.”